ARRIVAL of MR. JOHN I. TAY
OWING to the extremely isolated situation of Pitcairn Island, and
the uncertainty that attends every effort to reach it again should
one venture beyond its narrow limits, the islanders had hitherto,
with very few exceptions, been satisfied to spend all their lives
together, rather than run the risk of leaving their lone island home
without having an idea when they would see it again. In a period of
twenty-seven years only five had left the island to visit other places,
all being men; but in January, 1886, for the first time an island
woman left her home and family, to begin life anew in a distant land.
To leave behind and forever the scenes of earlier years, the fond
parents and brothers and sisters, and the old life of simple duties
and pleasures, to enter upon a scene of life new and untried—indeed,
scarcely dreamed of—needed great courage. This she displayed, being
guided by her high sense of the duty she owed her husband, who, after a
stay of five years and a half, was about to return to his native land.
The pain of parting from parents, whose tender love had watched over
her whole life, and from brothers, sisters, and friends who cherished
her, and who prized her love and friendship, was bravely borne. Only a
short time, less than a day, was allowed them in making preparations
for their departure, and when the hour of parting came, the procession
that followed them to the landing place was like that of a funeral, as
all knew that the separation would be final. In less than a year after
reaching her new home she passed away, the cold winter in a foreign
land proving too severe for a constitution always delicate.
In October of the same year, 1886, on the eighteenth day of the
month, there arrived the British man-of-war _Pelican_, whose captain
had courteously and kindly received on board, at Tahiti, an American
missionary, John I. Tay by name, a member of the body of Christians
known as Seventh-day Adventists. Wishing to reach Pitcairn Island for
the purpose of setting before the people what he believed were truths
hitherto unknown to them, he found passage, as before stated, on board
the _Pelican_. He was treated by all the officers and men with the
greatest consideration and courtesy, and was successful, during the
passage, in awakening sufficient interest among some of the ship’s
company to lead them to inquire and search further into the subjects
presented in the books they received from him.
[Illustration: HATTIE ANDRE’S CLASS.]
As no objection was raised by the people in regard to the question
whether the missionary would be allowed to stay, he was left on the
island when the _Pelican_ went away. Ten years earlier a large package
of Seventh-day Adventist publications had been sent to the island,
accompanied by letters from two of the leading ministers of that body,
Elders James White and J. N. Loughborough, earnestly requesting the
people to give a candid, careful reading to what had been sent them.
The letters were read, but the pamphlets and tracts were regarded with
suspicion, and their contents were examined very cautiously at first.
Further study awakened deeper interest, until to the minds of
four-fifths of the people there came the conviction that the statements
regarding the Sabbath, supported by an array of proofs from the Bible
itself, were too convincing to be longer denied. Yet no one, until
the coming of Mr. Tay, left Sunday keeping and accepted the seventh
day as the Sabbath. This was done the second week of the missionary’s
stay, and before Mr. Tay left the whole community was observing and
thoroughly believing in the seventh day as the Sabbath of the Lord.
A careful study of the different points of doctrine held by Seventh-day
Adventists, led first to a conviction on the part of the people that
their positions were correct, and finally to their acceptance of them,
although they felt that this would be a matter of regret, if not of
positive displeasure, to many who had hitherto expressed, and shown in
a most substantial manner, the warm interest they had always felt in
the island of Pitcairn and its people. While this to the islanders was
sad to contemplate, they felt that they could not do otherwise than
follow their convictions of duty.
After the departure of Mr. Tay, who left in the last week of November,
1886, some differences arose in regard to the manner of worship, and
in the interests of harmony and Christian union a meeting was convened
to talk over and consider the matter and adopt some plan of worship in
which all could unite. This was in March, 1887, and the result of the
meeting was that the Book of Common Prayer was laid aside.
For a year the islanders had been observing the seventh day as the
Sabbath, and it was a question with them how the change would be
accepted by the representatives of the British Government, under whose
protection they were, when a man-of-war should arrive. Therefore, some
little concern was felt when, in December, 1887, H. M. S. _Cormorant_
came. The day was Sunday, and the visitors, noticing the fact that
the day was not being kept as a sacred time, were curious to know the
reason why. One question followed another, until the whole story was
told. Perhaps the following extract from an English periodical, written
by one of the gentlemen on board the _Cormorant_, best tells how the
change was regarded. After a brief description of the island and how it
was peopled, the writer goes on to say:—
“It will be a matter of regret, therefore, to many who are interested
in the little community to hear that within the last year or two their
principles have undergone a revolution, and that they have enrolled
themselves among the Seventh-day Adventists—a sect originating in
the United States. It was with natural surprise that I heard of this
change, and, in the course of conversation, found that its cause was
a visit to the island of an Adventist missionary who remained some
_weeks_, inculcating the doctrines of his sect among the islanders. He
could have found no better soil in which to sow his doubtful seed. Very
earnest and anxious to learn, implicit believers and reverencers of the
Bible, the simple islanders, ignorant of sophistry and the subtleties
of scriptural deductions, listened attentively to the arguments of
their fanatical visitor, who, taking the Bible as his standpoint, soon
convinced them of the soundness of his views.... The island was flooded
with Seventh-day Adventist literature, emanating from the headquarters
of the sect in Michigan, and the islanders were full of the enthusiasm
of converts in the pursuit of their new creed.”
The article from which the foregoing extract was taken, concludes with
a very pleasing description of the writer’s feelings on awaking in the
morning and hearing the voice of praise and prayer ascending from more
than one family altar, a custom begun by John Adams, the converted
mutineer, and which continues still.
The visit of the _Cormorant_ will always be among the bright and
pleasant remembrances of the island, although she stayed only two
days. On the first day every youth and child, as well as many adults,
underwent the light operation of being vaccinated. The act was in
itself simple enough, but the virus used was so powerful that many of
those who had for the first time been inoculated, were for several days
utterly prostrated with severe headaches and shooting pains throughout
the whole body. In many cases the wounds showed a strong disinclination
to heal, and so great was the flow of pus that it necessitated the
constant use of bandages until the lengthy process of healing was
accomplished.
Captain Nicolls gave an invitation to all who so wished to visit his
ship and enjoy a pleasant entertainment on board. The after part of
the deck had been prepared for the entertainment, and from side to
side of the ship was a great display of bunting, prettily festooned
to form a partition. The captain presided at a large piano, while at
his side stood one of his officers, accompanying on the violin, which
instrument contributed largely to the music, two or three more being
skillfully played by as many of the ship’s company. The loud cheers
that greeted every fresh performance were heard on shore, and when the
first star of evening appeared, the islanders sang for their closing
piece, “Twilight Is Stealing over the Sea.” Then all rose to finish
the evening’s enjoyment by singing “God Save the Queen,” after which
the island boats, with their human freight, started homewards, and the
_Cormorant_ steamed away to her destination, bidding good-by with her
siren whistle.
[Illustration]